


In The Middle

by theo_ography



Category: DCU (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Best Friends, Casual Sex, Complicated Relationships, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:22:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25808791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theo_ography/pseuds/theo_ography
Summary: Three Boys Have Complicated Feelings, And It Gets Worse
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Roy Harper, Dick Grayson/Roy Harper/Wally West, Dick Grayson/Wally West, Roy Harper/Wally West
Comments: 53
Kudos: 183





	1. temporary bliss

**Author's Note:**

> What's this? A comics fic in this year of hell, 2020? From ME?
> 
> Yeah I've been working on this fic for literal months, I can't believe it's finally complete. I'll be posting all the chapters as soon as I can. I honestly put my whole heart into it, I love this fic and I'm so proud of it and I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed bringing it to life. 
> 
> Hope you guys are staying safe and keeping healthy! Much love, y'all <3

It’s only after he’s impatiently placed his freshly toasted Eggo waffles on his plate, sucking on burnt fingertips, that Wally breaks the silence that morning. 

“I think we should stop sleeping together.”

Roy freezes, his spoon halfway to his mouth and dripping milk back into his bowl. He’s barely awake. His shift went pretty late into the night, and by the time he’d gotten home Wally was already asleep in his own room. Not that they regularly slept in the same bed, but it happened often enough after sex that Roy had sort of gotten used to Wally’s presence next to him. They were still sort of figuring out that part of their arrangement. 

Which is now, apparently, coming to an end. 

“Uh.” Roy says eloquently. “Okay.” 

Wally sighs as he takes his seat across the table. He pours some syrup over his plate - the gross corn syrup shit that Roy despises but buys for Wally all the same, though not without the usual ragging for it. He’s quiet for a while, one of the few times that’s happened, so Roy takes the opportunity to push him.

“Mind if I ask why?”

Breaking his waffles into pieces with the side of his fork, Wally stares determinedly down at his plate as he speaks. “I’m… There’s been a development.”

Roy snorts. It makes Wally look at him, finally. “A development?”

Wally makes a face, mumbles “shut up…” under his breath, and shoves several pieces of waffle into his mouth.

“C’mon, out with it.” Roy kicks him under the table. “What’s developing?”

“Feelings.” Wally mutters around his food, and something short circuits in Roy’s brain, and then-- “I like someone.” 

Oh.

_ Someone. _

And then there’s relief, mixed with just a little bit of remorse. Roy doesn’t dwell on it. “Oh?”

“Yeah. I think it might just… complicate things. If we kept going, and had to break it off if anything. Happened. I dunno. Is that okay?”

Of course it’s okay. What kind of sick bastard would Roy be to say it’s not? This was a strictly  _ ‘friends with benefits, no strings attached, just having fun’ _ agreement they had, and that worked for him. Neither of them have time for a relationship, and the fact that they’re roommates made this simple and convoluted all at once. 

Roy had been feeling particularly lonely after that night that Dick had come to their apartment, all smiles and affection and cold toes under his thigh and loud commentary over the movie they’d picked. Maybe he’d been feeling touch-starved and sentimental and when Dick left, and all of those feelings had transferred onto the only other person in the room. And maybe he’d been weak, and Wally had been willing - eager, even - and if Roy had enjoyed it more than he wanted to admit, Wally didn’t have to know. 

If he’d been enjoying it more and more since they started, Wally didn’t have to know that either.

“Of course it’s okay.” Roy shrugs, finally lifts his spoon back to his mouth. Chews as nonchalantly as he can. “C’mon man, you really think I’d say no?”

With a huff, Wally kicks him under the table, retaliation for before. “Of course not, asshole. I just wanted to be sure we were on the same page.”

“Mission accomplished, then. We’re good.”

The tension that Roy hadn’t noticed in Wally’s shoulders visibly disappears. He finishes his waffles pretty quickly after that, zipping around the kitchen to clean his dish and put away some of the miscellaneous shit on the counter, then disappears to fetch his things for school. 

“I gotta head to the lab today, probably won’t be back til late.” He calls out as he fumbles around with the content of his backpack, trying to shove his lab coat in on top of his multitude of textbooks. “God I fucking hate Thawne, he keeps us until everyone is done the experiment and it’s such a goddamn waste of time.”

“And when do you finish?”

“Like, twenty minutes in.”

“Maybe slow down and take your time with things for once.” 

“You weren’t saying that the other night when I-”

Okay, maybe raising a suggestive eyebrow is a little unfair, but Wally had brought it up, and watching the flush flare up his throat when he realizes what he’d said is only a little bit satisfying. 

“When you…?”

Managing to yank the zipper shut, Wally slings his bag over his shoulder and turns on his heel. Purposefully does not look at Roy. “Never mind.”

So what if he wants to chase Wally out the door with several indecent, if well-founded, suggestions for how he could spend his extra time? They’ve been doing this for weeks now, it's a habit. It’s just another one he’ll have to shake.

***

There’s something about flirting with Dick that’s both comfortable and nerve-wracking at the same time. 

Being best friends has its benefits. Talking to each other is simple and smooth, their teasing and affection as normal as anything. But now there’s purpose behind it, and that alone makes Wally’s hands shake. 

It started out as his excuse for breaking things off with Roy. Because he had to do that; there is no reality in which continuing that relationship didn’t leave one of them in shambles. And let’s be real -- it would be Wally. And sure, maybe flirting with Dick wouldn’t be the best way to keep his feelings intact, but at least he could be sure that  _ this  _ flirting wouldn’t lead anywhere.

Or. So he’d thought.

It’s possible he was wrong about that. Because now Dick is holding Wally’s forearm from across the kitchen table. Laughing at some stupid joke Wally had made and subsequently forgot the second Dick’s thumb started rubbing small circles on the inside of his wrist. It’s not like Dick hasn’t touched him before, obviously, but this is. A lot. It’s a lot.

Wally is so fucked.

Dick’s eyes are so clear and focused and intense, and they’re set on  _ him  _ and nothing else and that attention is just a little bit daunting. His smile is crooked, almost a smirk but not quite, teasing in a way that Wally recognizes.

It takes him a minute, but he sees it. The touching, the smile, the focus. He’s been Dick’s wingman enough times to know that fucking face anywhere. 

Dick’s  _ working  _ him right now.

Wally’s getting  _ picked up _ by Dick Grayson and it’s not like he didn’t ask for it but  _ holy shit.  _

“ _ WALLS _ !” Roy’s voice, following the loud bang of the front door, booms through the apartment. “I’m fuckin’ starving, if you haven’t made dinner I’m ordering Chinese because, holy shit, I’ve had a day, I could probably eat more than you right now and I’m willing to bet on it.”

“I’d love to see that.” Dick says over his shoulder, grinning at Roy as he stumbles through the doorway into their kitchen.

Wally tries to ignore the way Dick looks back at him in confusion when Wally pulls his arm away.

Shit. He’s  _ supposed  _ to be flirting with Dick. Because of Roy. Shit, what is he  _ doing _ ?

“You missed the mountain of grilled cheese I made earlier, man.” Wally quips, his throat dry. He avoids Dick’s raised eyebrow with a pointed stare over his shoulder, tracking Roy across the room. 

He’s cursing, hopping on one leg and leaning against the counter while he tries to tug a loose sock back on his foot, apparently dislodged when he was kicking off his boots. They’re the green ones with little yellow ducks that Wally had gotten for him as a stocking stuffer, years ago. It shouldn’t be as endearing as it is that he still wears them despite complaining for hours about the colour. 

Oh, and this turns out to be a terrible idea, because Roy looks up and catches him staring and oh  _ god  _ \- the heated, teasing look in Roy’s eye is not helping this situation at all and Wally hopes to god that Dick isn’t looking at Roy because he’s not supposed to know and he’s too perceptive to  _ not  _ see-

“Hey Dicky,” Roy says, and then he’s there and curling an arm around the back of Dick’s neck to pull him close. “Didn’t know you’d be comin’ by today.”

Dick automatically reaches over the back of his chair to curl both arms around his waist, like it’s the easiest thing in the world to do that, resting his temple against Roy’s hip. “Just here to help Wally with his poli-sci homework, had some time before practice."

“Do  _ not  _ know why you took that as an elective, dude.” 

“If I’m gonna be a good teacher I gotta be well-rounded!” Wally argues, crossing his arms. “I want to know about the world.”

“And that’s admirable, Walls.” Dick says warmly, his eyes twinkling with… something, and whatever it is it’s making Wally’s stomach hurt. “It’s just that you’re kinda terrible at this stuff, no offense.”

“Offense taken.”

“Wally, you would be failing this class without Dick here to help you.”

“Well  _ sorry  _ some of us don’t have some weird natural talent when it comes to law or justice or whatever.”

“Clearly.” 

Wally stands just to smack Roy upside the head.

They all end up sprawled on the couch, a dozen empty containers of Chinese food littered across the coffee table. A few are laying on their side after Roy had kicked his feet up. Dick is squished between the two of them, leaning against Roy’s shoulder, his feet tucked under Wally’s thigh as they watch the crappiest movie they could find on netflix. 

Wally is not paying attention. 

Because Dick is next to him, curled up against Roy, his eyes a little glazed over as he stares at the screen. He looks so comfortable. Hell, he basically lives in their apartment anyway, he  _ should  _ be comfortable here. His dark hair, long enough to brush the collar of his shirt now, looks so soft and inviting in the light of the tv. Wally’s fingers itch to reach out and touch, to run through it, to play with the thick strands for as long as Dick will let him. 

And then there’s Roy. His arm slung over the back of the couch, long legs stretched out and relaxed. The tension in his shoulders, noticeable when he got home, has finally dropped. He’d said he had a rough day. Wally’s glad that he’s feeling better - or at least looks it. He hates it when Roy comes home upset and doesn’t let Wally do anything about it. 

Roy doesn’t usually have as many freckles as Wally, who’s covered in them from head to toe, but the summer sun had worked its magic and left a sprinkle of colour over his nose and cheeks. Wally never thought he’d find freckles that cute on anyone, considering that he hated his own, but apparently he’s made an exception for Roy. They hadn’t faded yet, even this far into September, but they would in the next month or so, as they always did. 

Something turns over in Wally’s gut when he thinks about that - that he’s paid enough attention to Roy in the years they’ve known each other to notice those tiny, insignificant details.

Roy turns his head to murmur something in Dick’s ear, his nose brushing against his temple. Dick’s laugh is deep, bubbling out of his throat, his smile soft and warm. He leans a little heavier against Roy’s side. Roy’s eyes follow the line of his jaw, the curve of his collarbones, gazing at Dick as intently as Wally is watching the both of them. He feels like he shouldn’t be.

And that’s - oh. 

Uh oh.

Wally’s voice is rough when he murmurs something about a drink and escapes to the kitchen as fast as his legs will carry him. 

When he gets there, he sags against the edge of the counter and drags his hands over his face. Rubs at his eyes like that will dispel the burning he can feel behind them. The stove light is still on from earlier, so Wally stands there in semi-darkness and just... breathes.

What the hell had he gotten himself into? God, he’d known that sleeping with Roy was a bad idea. He’d  _ known  _ that acting on that impulse was a terrible, terrible idea, but Roy had looked so dejected that night, after Dick had left, so-- so lonely. Wally knows how that feels.

And sure, Wally might be a poor substitute for Dick  _ fucking  _ Grayson, but he was  _ there _ , and he was enthusiastic. Who wouldn’t be, with Roy in front of them looking like that - with his strong arms and broad shoulders and that stupid smirk that never seems to leave his face. Wally had convinced himself that he was just helping a friend. Scratching an itch they both couldn’t get rid of on their own. And it had been fine, for a little while. It’d been great. 

But now every time Wally looks at Roy he can’t help but think about how good his hands feel on his skin. That breathy laugh brushing against the side of his neck. Roy’s lips on his forehead in a tender moment that they rarely share together. 

Is it really Wally’s fault that he wants more, now?

Taking a deep breath, Wally turns around and starts sorting through their multitude of dirty dishes, stacking them on the counter and filling the sink with hot water. He has to  _ do  _ something, to busy his hands while his mind berates him for all his poor choices. Of course it’s his fucking fault, he instigated the whole thing. He just hadn’t anticipated falling for  _ both  _ of his best friends. There was no way any of this ended with his heart in one piece. 

Because clearly Roy wants Dick. Roy  _ likes  _ Dick. And now Wally is pretending to flirt with Dick because if he doesn’t, Roy will figure out that Wally likes  _ him  _ and--and--... and Wally would get his heart broken twice over. Because Roy knowing and looking at him with some kind of pity would hurt more than hiding all of this.

It’ll be fine though. Because Dick will let him down easy, as they’d established. And then Wally will tell Dick to date Roy and everyone will be happy. 

Right?

Dumping a few plates into the hot soapy water, Wally lets them soak while he reaches for a mug without looking - and of course, because his luck is just like that, the first one he picks up is Roy’s favourite. 

Coincidentally, the mug is actually Wally’s. It’s one of those really tall ones with a big handle, and on the side it says “I Make Science Puns Periodically”, with the symbol for iodine. It was dumb and cheap and had made Wally laugh when he bought it but he never used it - he prefers shorter mugs - and as soon as they had moved in together, Roy had claimed it as his own. Wally had never questioned it.

“Hey man, I’m about to-”

“ _ JESUS _ !” Wally drops the mug into the sink with a splash, getting showered in suds as a result. Whirling around, he finds Dick in the doorway, surprised as Wally feels. 

Dick looks like he’s biting back a smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Wally sighs and turns back to root through the sink. Oh thank god, the mug is still intact. “Dude, you have  _ got  _ to make more noise when you walk around, it’s fucking terrifying.”

“I’m sorry! I can’t help it.” Dick laughs. He comes closer, spins around to lean against the counter beside the sink, his arms crossed. “I was just coming in to let you know I’ve gotta head out.”

“Oh.” Wally purses his lips and plucks the sponge out of the water. “Practice?”

“Yeah, gotta get in some hours on the bars this week.” 

“Man, I don’t know how you juggle a double major and gymnastics club  _ and  _ a social life.”

“Excellent time management and minimal sleep.”

“You’re nuts.”

Dick pokes him in the side, so Wally retaliates by flicking a handful of soap bubbles at him. 

“You okay?” Dick asks.

“Hm?” 

“You came in here for a drink and now you’re doing the dishes. Weirdo.” Dick pokes him again, gentler this time. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Wally says, “Why wouldn’t it be?”

He can feel Dick’s eyes on him, and that’s fair because Wally didn’t look at him when he said that. He just stared down at the murky water, plunging his hands in and scrubbing at a plate with a particularly gnarly case of dried… something, plastered to the ceramic. God knows what. 

“ ‘kay.” Dick pushes off from the countertop. He gets to the doorway, and when he speaks again, Wally finds his silhouette framed sweetly from behind by the hallway light. “I’ll see you later then. You comin’ out with us this weekend? Kori has been relentless about going dancing.”

Wally bites his cheek. He’d planned to go, but with his currently complicated feelings, he’s not sure he could handle going clubbing with Roy and Dick now. He doesn’t know what he’d do.

But Dick looks hopeful, and Wally’s giving in before he realizes it’s happening.

“I could be persuaded.”    


***   


“Dude, you’re so offkey.”

“ _ You’re _ offkey!” 

“Great comeback, shortpants.”

“My god, you’re never gonna let that go, are you? It was  _ one time _ . In  _ gymnastics _ .”

“Shouldn’t’ve let Bruce keep those pictures up if you didn’t want us ridiculing you for the rest of your life.”

“Do not bring ‘us’ into this, Roy,” Donna interrupts, flicking his earlobe from where she’s splayed out, her head on Dick’s thigh. “You’re the only one who continues to rag on Dick for the scaley greens.”

“That’s true, you do bring it up a lot.” Garth adds from beside Wally on the other side of the blanket, his face buried in a textbook. 

The five of them are spread out across the large flannel blanket that Dick had started bringing with him to school, trying to combat against the freezing cold lecture halls that continued to be the bane of his existence. This was a much nicer use for it. The campus greens are still surprisingly green for this late into September, and the sun is high in a clear blue sky. It’s a beautiful day and they’re not the only ones appreciating it. Apparently the entire student population is outside today. They’ve already had to throw back two stray frisbees and a soccer ball.

This semester, by sheer luck, they’d all managed to line up about an hour with at least one other person between classes. Wally and Roy had coordinated in order to carpool to campus, as they’d moved in together, but the rest of them lining up their schedules happened purely by chance. Dick’s glad for it - seeing each other more often kept them all sane.

Wally and Roy had shown up on campus together around the same time as Dick, and Garth and Donna had joined them about twenty minutes in. Roy had brought along his guitar, not actually having any class today but deciding to tag along with Wally all the same. It wasn’t hard to rope Dick into practising a new cover with him for his channel, the two of them softly harmonizing while the others studied - or in Donna’s case, napped. She’d made a pillow out of Dick’s lap pretty much the second she’d arrived. 

Roy smacks the brim of Donna’s cap over her face, earning himself a disgruntled scoff and a pinched thigh. “Ow! Rude.”

“You started it.”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“Oh my god guys, seriously?” Wally huffs. “I’ve got to finish this lab report before class starts or I’m gonna get my ass handed to me by my T.A.”

“That the one you think hates you?” Dick asks, peeking over Wally’s shoulder at his workbook. He’s got about two pages done, as far as Dick can tell. 

“I  _ know  _ she does but I have no idea why.”

“Maybe she can tell you’ve been getting your lab reports done half an hour before class.” Garth mutters around the pencil in his mouth. 

“Harsh, dude. It’s not  _ all  _ the time.” Wally pouts at him. Garth doesn’t see it. “Maybe she’s psychic.”

“Maybe she’s doing her job.”

“Nah, I think she’s just evil.”

“The logical conclusion.”

Wally grins. “I’m nothing if not logical!”

“Aw, Wally, don’t sell yourself short like that.”

Dick plucks the pencil out of Wally’s hand before he can whip it at Garth. He throws Dick a look of betrayal. Dick simply smiles and tucks the potential weapon behind his ear.

Wally sighs and stretches his arms over his head, tilting his head to the side with a gross ‘pop’. Garth scoffs at him in disgust. Wally dutifully ignores it, glancing at his watch. “Alright, I gotta get going before I’m late  _ and  _ irresponsible, apparently.”

“Aw, Walls, we’re just teasing.” says Donna, trying to pat him placatingly on the cheek. Laying on her back, she can just about reach his chin. “We know you’re responsible when it’s important.”

“Because schoolwork doesn’t classify as import-- OW!”

“Go on, Wally. I’ll defend your honour.” Donna murmurs, bringing her arm back down from where she’d reached over to pinch Garth’s thigh. 

“I bruise like a peach, y’know…” Garth mutters, rubbing his leg. Dick snickers at the sympathetic wince Roy sends Garths’ way. 

“Yeah, I know.”

“Thanks Donna.” Wally laughs, giving her ankle a quick squeeze before rising to his feet.

They all wave goodbye to Wally as he heads off towards the science complex. The wind picks up for a moment, blowing a few strands of hair into Dick’s face, and when he brushes them aside he feels the pencil still tucked behind his ear. Knowing Wally, it’s probably the only one he brought with him. 

“Yo, Walls!”

Wally turns around, walking backwards. “What?”

“Catch!” And with that, Dick takes the pencil and throws it at him.

“Oh shi-” Wally fumbles as the projectile comes sailing towards him, dodging out of the way at the last second before it can hit him. He plucks it out of the grass and starts walking backwards again. “You’re a  _ dick _ !”

He shrugs. “S’in the name!” 

Eventually the others start to pack up and head off to their next classes, Donna grumbling as she rises from her comfortable napping position on Dick’s lap. Roy reaches out to trip her as she passes him, but she dodges it nimbly, as usual, and flips him the bird over her shoulder. She smacks a wet kiss to Dick’s cheek and ruffles Garth’s hair as she leaves for Political Philosophy. Garth heads off to BioChem a few minutes later with less fanfare, wishing them a good day 

Dick doesn’t have class for another forty-five minutes or so, and he knows Roy is just hanging out with him until he has to leave too, so he decides to use this time to relax a little bit. He lays back on the blanket, slinging one arm over his face and basking in the sunlight he knows he’ll only get to enjoy for another month or so. Roy starts plucking at the strings again, just fiddling out a tune for a while until Dick starts to recognize it. He smiles a bit to himself, tucking his arms under his head and just listening to Roy’s soft strumming. 

_ “[What](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fHjKxXMB4dE) would you do if I sang out of tune, would you stand up and walk out on me? Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song and I'll try not to sing out of key.” _

Dick grins. He shakes his head, opening his eyes to see Roy smirking down at him over the edge of his guitar. His head blocks out the sun, the edges of his copper hair framed in golden light, blue eyes dark in shadow, almost grey. The sleeves of his baseball tee are bunched at the elbows, one arm hanging over the side of his guitar as he strums lazily.

He looks… lovely. 

Dick feels a little guilty thinking so, considering how things have been happening with Wally lately. Although, who  _ knows  _ what the hell is happening with Wally right now? They’re… fake flirting? That’s probably the easiest way to put it. But it feels real, at least to Dick. And the hardest part is that he’d really love for it to be real, if he had the choice.

But he’d signed up for this. Dick had told Wally he’d help him out, and that’s exactly what he intends to do. Regardless of how he feels. 

_ “What do I do when my love is away?” _

Tuning back into the moment, Dick joins in before Roy can begin the next line.  _ “Does it worry you to be alone?” _

Roy grins.  _ “How do I feel by the end of the day?” _

Dick cocks a challenging eyebrow.  _ “Are you sad because you're on your own?” _

They sing together for the chorus through their easy smiles, their voices melding together. Dick’s a little throaty from his place on the ground, but hitting the notes all the same. 

_ “No, I get by with a little help from my friends…” _

Singing with Roy has been something Dick’s done for years. Roy had started his channel when they were teenagers, just going basic guitar covers of his favourite songs. He’d started doing his own arrangements not long after that. Roy hadn’t told any of them about it. It was only when Dick caught him playing, arriving at the Queen house a little earlier than he’d expected to and walking in on Roy in the middle of making a video, that Roy had admitted to it. 

_ “Oh, I get high with a little help from my friends...” _

It wasn’t until he’d heard Dick singing in the shower the next morning that Roy asked him to do a cover together.

The rest, as they say, is history. 

_ “I’m gonna try with a little help from my friends…” _

Dick sits up to belt out the next bit, ignoring Roy’s loud guffaw.  _ “Do you need anybody?” _

Roy bobs his head with the bouncing chords, eyes closed.  _ “I need somebody to love.” _

_ “Could it be anybody?” _

_ “I want somebody to love.” _

It’s easy to ignore the way some of the other people on the greens are watching them. They’re having too much fun playing around to really care, and maybe it’ll be good publicity for Roy’s channel if people are recording them. Despite Dick’s minor celebrity status -- Bruce being who he is -- it doesn’t generate that much traffic when he does a cover with Roy. 

Not that that’s what he’s really thinking about right now. 

Right now, he’s thinking about how nicely their voices have always gone together, even when they were pitchy teenagers. He’s thinking about Roy’s smile, crooked and always teasing, easily stretched across his lips and warm in the sunlight. He’s thinking about how well Roy has filled out since then, his shirt pulled tight across his broad shoulders, his jaw stronger and more defined than when they were 15 and Dick was head over heels for him. 

Of course, that’s not how Dick feels anymore. That feeling had faded to a dull ache after years of pushing it down. Of valuing his friendships more than matters of the heart. Roy being his friend is much, much more important to him than furthering that relationship in any direction. 

Not that Roy, sarcastic and strong and sweet, has made it any easier.


	2. something just like this

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: a good chunk of this chapter features the depiction of a panic attack. If you are not comfortable reading the description of it, a warning of the beginning and end of the scene is written in the end notes below, as well as a general summary of what happens. Reading the full scene isn't required to understand the rest of the chapter, you can avoid it without missing any important plot details and continue reading simply with the knowledge that it happens. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Keeping his hands to himself is easier than Roy thought it would be.

They’d never been obvious about their relationship around their friends. They wanted to keep things as simple as possible after deciding that being roommates and sleeping together was a good idea. Telling anyone would’ve made things too real - and maybe brought on a little judgement, who knows. Christ, even just the idea of telling Dick had them both cringing in discomfort, considering his personal feelings about casual sex, so it was a mutual, well-kept secret between the two of them. And that’s how Roy had liked it. 

‘Course, it’s not like they were that touchy-feely to begin with. Not with each other. That was Dick’s thing, and sometimes Donna’s, but Wally and Roy had never needed to be touching to know that the other person was there for them. So there was no worry about being too revealing, not when things between them didn’t change around the others. The touching - or lack thereof - had no impact on the sex, either, they didn’t relate it to that. And sure, maybe Roy had liked it when Wally slept next to him, but they didn’t cuddle. There was no stroking of hair or gentle caresses or sweet nothings whispered in the darkness. It was sex, and it was easy for them. It was good. 

So watching Wally dart around the apartment, laughing and leaping over the coffee table to avoid Dick’s nimble hands, it’s easy to resist the urge to catch Wally around the waist and tug him into his lap. It’s easy to push down his desire to bury his face in the crook of Wally’s neck and never leave. Because Roy doesn’t do that. Never has. 

Wally’s smile is radiant. It’s almost blinding, so wide and cheeky and untroubled that sometimes it’s hard to look directly at him when he’s this happy. Because sure, Wally’s had his issues, but in comparison to the rest of them he bounces back like nobody’s business, and his ability to let himself just -  _ be _ ... it’s unbearable sometimes. But Roy can’t deny that, right now, seeing Wally smile is the best thing. 

So burying it deep, deep inside along with any questions about it that worm their way into his head - it’s easy enough. He’s not gonna dwell on those thoughts, fuck no. He’s content to just watch his friends - they’re  _ friends _ , that’s it - chase each other around the room like they’re twelve and carefree all over again. 

Roy just sits on the couch and laughs with them. Laughs  _ at  _ them when Wally trips over the blanket that had fallen off the end of the couch. Ignores the ache blooming in his chest when Dick finally catches Wally and winds his arms around him like it’s the easiest thing in the world. 

***

Wally raps on the front door once, and not hearing any shouts of protest from within, he opens the door and sticks his head inside. “Hallooo?”

“In the living room!” Kori’s voice calls out. 

Wally steps inside and shuts the door behind him, kicking his shoes off on the mat and dropping his backpack to the floor. Navigating Dick and Kori’s apartment easily, Wally stops in the kitchen to fill a glass of water before entering the living room. Kori’s lounged across their massive red couch with her laptop balanced on her thighs, hair pulled up in a bun. Wally has passed out on those cushions enough times to know that from how deeply settled Kori is, she’s probably been there all afternoon.

She peeks over the back of the couch and smiles when he steps through the doorway. “Hey Wally, how are you?” 

Wally shrugs, settling on the arm of the couch at Kori’s feet and sipping at his water. “I’m alright. You?”

“Ugh,” Kori rubs aggressively at her eyes, then smoothes her palms over the baby hairs sticking out from her updo. “Do  _ not  _ get me started. This paper is going to kill me.”

Wally tips his glass towards her in solidarity. “I feel that. Got some poli-sci grades back today…” Kori grimaces before he can say much more. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry.” The great things about Kori is that when she says that, she means it. “Are you here to talk to Dick about it?”

Wally sighs. “How did you know?”

Kori grins. “I have excellent intuition.”

Wally pokes her knee with his toe. 

“You’re in luck, he should still be in his room. I haven’t seen him leave today.”

“That’s weird.” Wally frowns. “Didn’t he have class this morning?”

“It got cancelled, I think his professor is sick.”

“Isn’t that the one Dick likes?”

“Yeah.”

“Bummer.” Wally gets to his feet and stretches. Downing the rest of his water, he places it on the coffee table and starts heading down the hall towards the bedrooms. “Alright, time to go get lectured by my best friend about what I didn’t listen to in lecture.”

Kori laughs and gives him a thumbs up. “Good luck!”

Honestly, Dick doesn’t lecture Wally about his grades. He does look at him like,  _ ‘really?’, _ on the odd occasion that Wally flunks something that they worked on together for hours, but it’s never really judgemental. He just wants Wally to reach his potential. Or, at least, Wally thinks he does.

Wally knocks softly on the bedroom door, not wanting to disrupt Dick if he’s busy, and when he doesn’t get an answer, he cracks it gently open. 

“Dick?”

The room is dark, the curtains pulled shut against the daylight. Wally squints against the pitch black, trying to see if Dick is in bed sleeping or something, but it’s a futile effort. Dick’s got blackout curtains and that shit works, regardless of the light tipping inside from the hallway. He’s about to pull back, thinking Kori was wrong and Dick must have slipped out without her noticing, when he hears it. 

A hiccup, cracked and soft, so quiet he almost misses it. 

Wally freezes in the doorway, straining to hear in case he’s imagining things, but then it happens again: a broken sob, choked off and muffled, breaking the silence from across the room. Wally pushes the door open further, just a fraction, letting the hall light in a bit more. It’s only then that he’s able to make out the top of Dick’s head from behind his bed, leaning against the side of it from where he’s sat on the floor. 

Wally steps inside and closes the door behind him, not entirely sure what he’s doing or even if he’s welcome here, but he’s not leaving Dick alone with whatever’s put him in this position. That much he knows. He lets his eyes adjust to the darkness as much as they can, navigating Dick’s room with practised ease, just dodging the corner of the dresser than he always bangs his hip on. Finally, rounding the end of the bed, he slowly lowers himself to the ground in front of Dick. 

The sight of him is like a punch to the gut.

Dick is curled into a ball on the floor, a pillow caught between his bent knees and his chest, face pressed into it. He’s shuddering violently. Wally can hear the broken, gasping sobs clearly now, though they’re muffled by the pillow, and a shot of panic runs through him when he realizes how much harder Dick is making it for himself to breathe. 

“Dicky?” Wally whispers, wincing at how loud his voice sounds in the otherwise silent bedroom. Dick doesn’t respond, or maybe he can’t. Wally swallows and tries again. “Dicky, if you can hear me, I’m going to touch you, okay?”

Wally places a hand gently on Dick’s elbow, a barely-there touch for comfort, for reassurance. Dick tenses up a little, but not so much that Wally feels he should pull away. Dick is so tactile -- touch has always been the easiest way to make him feel better. Not that Wally has ever seen him like  _ this  _ before. 

“Hey bud, it’s just me.” Wally murmurs, wracking his brain for what to do. From what he knows and what it looks like, Dick is having a panic attack. He’s read enough about them on the internet to have a few ideas, but he’s never dealt with one in person before - neither himself or with someone else. He squeezes Dick’s arm just a little bit with his thumb and forefinger, just to see if he gets a response. If it’s negative, Wally will pull away immediately.

But Dick doesn’t acknowledge it, just keeps shuddering, and before he realizes he’s doing it, Wally has a leg on either side of Dick’s knees and he’s shuffling closer to hold him. He rubs up and down Dick’s back soothingly. Tries to keep his breathing even so he doesn’t start to panic himself. And then he remembers something with startling clarity from his late night scrolling. 

“Dicky, I’m gonna breathe real easy and slow, and if you can, I want you to m- to match yours with mine, okay?” Wally just barely gets the sentence out without stuttering, his voice catching at the last moment, and he cringes when he hears it. He’s gotta be steady for Dick right now, gotta keep his shit together. He brushes it off and starts breathing deeply -- with purpose. 

Four seconds in, four seconds out. 

Wally doesn’t know how long it takes for Dick to come out of it. All he can focus on is his own breathing and Dick’s stuttering gasps for air between them. Wally wants to snatch that pillow out from Dick’s face but he figures that won’t help in the long run, so he just waits. Just sits there with his best friend, rubbing his back, holding him tight and praying this comes to an end soon. 

Because Dick is clearly in pain, and all Wally wants is for it to go away. 

Eventually, Dick lifts his head. It’s only enough to rest his forehead on Wally’s shoulder, but it frees his face from that damn pillow, and Wally can feel Dick’s shaky breath against his collarbone. He’s trying, at least, to mimic Wally’s breathing, his chest heaving with the effort. Wally presses his face to the side of Dick’s head, his hairline damp with sweat but Wally couldn’t care less. 

He wonders if that says something.

When Dick pulls out of Wally’s grasp, he almost grips him tighter out of reflex. But he doesn’t. Wally lets Dick sit back against the side of the bed and watches him wipe at the wetness on his face with his sleeve. Waits patiently for Dick to pull himself together. Dick doesn’t meet his eye for a long time. Wally’s still got his knees bent on either side of Dick’s, so he just rests his elbows there, watching him with a focus that could be making Dick uncomfortable but he’s too on edge to look away.

When Dick speaks, his voice like sandpaper, it’s so quiet Wally would’ve missed it if they weren’t inches apart. 

“Hi.”

His lips twitch into something that feels like a smile. “Hey.”

Dick clears his throat, finally raising his gaze. Wally’s never seen him look so unsure in his life. “Sorry you had to see that.”

“I-...”

_ What?  _

Wally frowns. “It’s fine, don’t be. I’m glad…” He tries to swallow around the foul taste in his mouth. “I’m glad I could… um, help. If I did.”

Dick takes a deep, shaky breath, and nods. “You did. That-- yeah, that helped.”

Hesitantly, Wally lays his hand on Dick’s knee and gives it a gentle squeeze. “Good.”

“Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

“Heh..” Dick scrubs at his eyes again and leans his head back against the bed, taking in another breath so deep it looks painful. 

“Do you, um… Do you wanna talk about it?” Wally asks. 

Dick exhales long and slow. “Not really.”

“Oh, okay.”

“I mean,” Dick sniffles and then, surprisingly, takes Wally’s hand in his, playing with his fingers. It’s a pretty standard gesture of affection from Dick, but Wally wasn’t expecting it after… all that. Still, it’s not like he protests. “Not the, um… cause. I guess. But uh, yeah, that happens sometimes.” 

“Was it… I mean, it looked like a panic attack.”

“Yeah.” Dick nods. “They’re not usually that… intense.”

“How often do you…? I mean, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“No, it’s fine. You did just--… Anyway, it’s not as bad as it used to be. Now I only get them occasionally. I’m, uh. I’m on medication for it now. It helps.”

“That’s good.” Wally says, turning his hand to hold Dick’s, squeezing hard. Dick returns the pressure just as tightly. “Can I ask… Why did you never--? Ah, that’s a stupid question, I get why you wouldn’t tell m-- er, us. But, um--”

“No, that’s…” Dick interrupts. He hesitates, mouth open like he’s waiting for the words to come out . “You guys have always seen me as, like… I dunno. I guess I just didn’t want you to see me as weak, after all this time."

Wally blinks, his jaw slack.

That’s-- He would  _ never--  _

He raises his hand to Dick’s cheek, gently lifting his head. He’s been staring at his lap for a while now. His grip on Wally’s other hand is tight enough to bruise. “Dick, I… it’s… Fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you stronger than I do now.”

“...What?”

“I mean…” Wally shakes his head in disbelief. “You’ve always been so… steadfast, and sure. Now that I know you deal with  _ this  _ while still taking on everything you do, I…” Wally watches Dick cringe, and strokes his thumb across his cheekbone gently. “I think you’re amazing. Even more than I did before.”

It takes a moment for Dick to finally open his eyes, but even when he does he still won’t look at Wally. “Really?” He asks.

“Really really.” Wally says, lips twitching. 

Dick lets out a wet laugh and tips his cheek further into Wally’s palm. He doesn’t say anything for a while. Eventually, with another deep breath, he sits up straighter against the side of the bed and folds his legs criss-cross-applesauce between them. Wally follows suit, their knees brushing. 

“So, um,” Dick clears his throat, “What did you come over here for? Like, originally?”

Wally opens his mouth to reply honestly, then thinks better of it. He doesn’t want to burden Dick with his schoolwork bullshit when he’s just had a damn panic attack. That’s not fair to him.

“Just didn’t feel like going home for a bit,” He says instead, “Thought I’d swing by and see what you were up to.”

Dick’s face falls, concerned, and alarms go off in Wally’s head because  _ what could he have just said to cause that _ ? 

“Is it… still the thing with Roy?” 

Oh. 

_ Oh _ . 

“Uh, aha--” Wally shakes his head. “No, no. Just… Roy won’t be back from work ‘til late and I didn’t feel like milling about an empty apartment by myself. Wanted some company, that’s all.”

“Oh, okay.” Dick says, nodding. “Well. Sorry I haven’t been the best company.”

Wally bops him sharply on the nose, and Dick scrunches up his face with a surprised laugh. “Don’t you fucking dare apologize.”

Dick smiles wryly and ducks his head. “Sorry.”

“Hey!”

“Sorry!”

Wally snags him by the wrist and pulls Dick forward into a hug, ruffling his hair gently. Dick winds his arms around Wally’s waist and just holds on. He presses his forehead against Wally’s neck.

Wally gives him a tight squeeze. “Do you wanna call off tonight? Or take a raincheck? I’m sure Kori would understand.”

Dick lets out a sigh but otherwise doesn’t respond. 

“We can stay in. Order a pizza. Watch That 70s Show or something.”

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. 

“You can kick my ass at charades for the millionth time.”

Dick laughs louder this time, raising his head so Wally can see him roll his eyes. “I don’t know how you’re so bad at it.”

“You’re just supernaturally good at charades,” Wally shrugs, “Like you are with most things.”

“Oh, shut up.” Dick scoffs, pulling away to prod him lightly in this chest. 

“Nah, I’m not good at that either.”

“That’s true.”

“Hey!”

Dick’s grinning now, though some fatigue still lingers around his eyes. Wally considers that for another moment, brushing a lock of dark hair away from his face. He definitely looks better than before -- more like himself. But, of the few things Wally knows about panic attacks, one of them is how much energy they can take out of you. 

“So, what do you think?” He asks again. “We don’t have to tell anyone about this. I can fake a tummyache or something and guilt you into staying behind to take care of me.”

Dick’s smile softens, and it’s another moment before he speaks. “That’s sweet, Wally. Thank you.”

“Anytime.” Wally tilts his head, brows raised. “That a yes?”

“I’m not sure, to be honest.” Dick sighs. He shimmies up into the bed behind him and flops backwards, staring at the ceiling. Wally joins him, laying on his side. “I dunno what would be better.”

“What, going out clubbing or staying home?”

“Yeah.”

“I know which one I’d pick if I just had a panic attack. But then again, we’re different.”

“Yeah…” Dick frowns, squinting into the darkness above. “As weird as it sounds, I think I might actually wanna go out, still.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. The thought of staying here feels weird, after that. Maybe getting out of the house will help me get out of my head.”

Wally purses his lips, thinking about it. “That kinda makes sense.”

“Does it?”

“For you? Yeah, I think so. And hey, we can always leave if it doesn’t work out that way.”

Dick glances at him, his mouth twitching into a smile. “We?”

Wally’s suddenly glad for the darkness of the room as he feels cheeks grow warm. “I mean. Yeah. If you wanted the company.”

He feels something brush his hand and recognizes the familiar sensation of Dick’s fingers tangling with his own. 

“I’d appreciate that,” Dick murmurs, “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” Wally says again, softer this time. 

He means it. Anytime, every time Dick needs him, Wally will be there. He always has been.

He just hopes Dick knows that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The scene begins at "A hiccup, cracked and soft, so quiet he almost misses it". It is not written from Dick's POV, but is witnessed by Wally. Wally finds Dick alone in his room, having a panic attack. Unsure of how to proceed, Wally sits with him through it and attempts to help him control his breathing. It ends at "when Dick speaks, his voice like sandpaper".


	3. save me tonight

The club is loud and bright and packed when they arrive, the night already in full swing. There’s glow sticks and neon clothing as far as the eye can see, a theme that Dick can’t quite decipher clearly being adhered to. The air reeks of alcohol and body odor, thick and hot under the flashing lights, and sweat starts to bead at the nape of his neck. Dick can feel the bass thrumming in his chest. 

God, it feels good. 

Kori squeals in delight beside him, loud enough that Dick can hear it over the music. She slips her phone in the tight back pocket of her jeans and grabs him by the hand. “C’mon, Donna says they’ve already got a table in the back!” 

For the two of them, crossing the dancefloor is easy. Kori is graceful and fluid as she slips between bodies, moving with the music and unafraid to graze up against strangers as she makes her way along. Dick follows her example, moving to the rhythm and drifting through the sea of people like cutting through a wave. 

Kori glances over her shoulder to check on him, her smile wide and joyful, fully in her element. He’s following her easily, but he appreciates the gesture nonetheless and smiles back in reassurance. They’re well-matched, he and Kori. Dick’s heart swells when he thinks of how lucky he is to have found a friend in her.

Soon enough, they find their friends piled up in a large round booth, yelling indiscriminately at each other over the beat, drinks already in hand. Garfield is almost sitting on the table, gesticulating wildly, and Victor is doubled over with laughter. Donna and Garth are on the other side, both flushed and amused, and squashed at the back of the booth between the four of them are Wally and Roy. 

“Babe!” Donna whoops when she sees Kori, clambering over Garth to reach her girlfriend when she and Dick finally reach the table. They kiss enthusiastically, and Donna gives Roy the finger when he makes an obnoxious gagging noise.

Garfield makes room for Dick on the bench next to him. “Hey man, long time no see!”

“Hey Gar, Vic.” Dick smiles. Victor tips his bottle of beer in Dick’s direction as a greeting before taking a long pull. “How long you guys been here?”

“‘bout half an hour?” says Gar, his own half-empty glass of green liquor hidden neatly at his side. At 19, he really shouldn’t have gotten in here in the first place, let alone have a drink, but Dick doesn’t question his methods. “Not wasting any time, dude. Midterms are comin’ up and this is, like, the last night we can get fucked up before all hell breaks loose.”

Dick laughs. “How responsible of you.”

“Right??”

“Sorry, did someone just call Garfield Logan  _ responsible _ ?” That’s Roy’s sarcasm coming from across the table, and Dick swallows around the sudden lump in his throat.

Roy’s wearing that red tank top that shrunk in the wash ages ago, the one that he’d decided was only good for clubbing anymore, and  _ goddamn  _ was he right. It clings to him, shows off his arms in a way that’s almost sinful, his tattoo vibrant and stark around his bicep. Did he get a haircut? He must have, his undercut looks cleaner than it had yesterday. The longer strands on top are already messy, like he’s been running his fingers through it. He’s got one arm slung over the back of the booth, just above Wally’s shoulders, which-

Fuck.

The first thing Dick notices about Wally is the lovely pink flush running from his cheeks all the way to the base of this throat, where it disappears into the low v-neck of a fitted black t-shirt. It’s so simple, but he looks  _ so  _ good. His freckles are vivid and obvious and  _ everywhere _ , constellations of pigment scattered across his pale skin, highlighted by the flashing lights above. His red curls, lighter in colour than Roy’s, are already a little damp from the heat.

They look damn good together, and Dick isn’t afraid to admit that, no matter how adamantly he refuses having a ginger kink. 

He just appreciates how attractive his two -  _ coincidentally _ , redheaded - best friends happen to be.

“Hey!” Gar’s voice snaps him out of his reverie. “Fuck you, Harper, I can be responsible.”

“Uh-huh, tell that to Palmer when you fail his quiz tomorrow.”

“I can take Palmer’s quizzes in my sleep, I never study for those things.”

“Yeah, real responsible.”

Victor plucks Garfield’s glass out of the way before the teenager can knock it over when he leans tipsily towards Roy. “Dude, do  _ not  _ waste this, I am not buying you another one already.”

“Sorry man.” Gar takes the drink, downs it in one go, and lets out a preposterous belch. “Problem solved.”

Vic just laughs and fist bumps him.

“Whatever Harper, responsible or not, I already decided I’m getting fucked up tonight so rag on me all you want.” Gar leaps over Dick’s legs out of the booth, stumbling a little on the landing but managing to right himself at the last moment. He spins on his heel, bowing inelegantly at the table, and then turns back to the dance floor. He calls over his shoulder as he starts walking away: “Maybe try to take that stick outta your ass though, might have some fun while you’re at it.”

Roy barks out a laugh and whips a coaster at him from across the table, but Garfield is already disappearing into the crowd.

Vic downs his beer, and Dick lets him out of the bench when he moves to follow Gar. “Gotta make sure he doesn’t try to fucking crowd surf again, he ended up with a broken nose the last time he tried it and complained for  _ weeks _ .”

The whole table laughs at that, Wally sending Vic a two-fingered salute in solidarity. He’d been on ‘Gar Patrol’ the last time they went out and obviously sympathizes with him. Dick slides back into the booth, settling closer to Wally this time. Heat is radiating off him in waves, as it always does, but in the already sticky atmosphere it’s almost overwhelming. Dick’s sweating just from sitting next to him - but that might not only be from Wally’s body heat. 

Donna and Kori slide in on Dick’s other side, tangled together already. Dick smiles at the lovestruck look in their eyes. He’s so happy they found each other.

“Hey, pretty bird.” Roy greets him, his trademark smirk set firmly on his lips. It shouldn’t make his heart race the way it does. “You stayin’ sober tonight?”

“Yup. DD-ing for these two.” Dick nods at Donna and Kori.

“You’re such a great roommate, Dicky.” Donna hums, leaning her temple on his shoulder. 

Dick rolls his eyes fondly. “I mean considering I’m not actually  _ your  _ roommate, yes, yes I am.”

“Rude!” Donna smacks his arm, pouting. “You’re never there anyway, I might as well keep my poor girlfriend company while you’re off saving the world or whatever.”

“‘ _ Or whatever.’ _ Like you’re not planning to be an ambassador some day.”

“I can be gay  _ and  _ powerful, Dick.”

Roy snorts. Donna plucks the umbrella out of her drink and flicks it at him.

“You already are, princess.” Kori croons, kissing Donna on the cheek. She untangles herself from her girlfriend’s arms and steps out from the booth. “I’m gonna get out there and see what kind of mischief Garfield has gotten himself into, you coming?”

Donna’s arms reach out for her as she leaves, tugging her back in for another quick kiss. “I’m gonna finish my drink first, baby, and then I’ll come find you.”

“Gotcha.” Kori throws her long hair over one shoulder, hand on a cocked out hip. “Anyone else?”

Dick considers it, his legs starting to twitch with the need to move. He’s about to accept the invite when he feels Wally’s shoulder bump against his. He turns to him, and finds a small, knowing smile on Wally’s lips. 

“You should go.” Wally says, speaking to him for the first time since Dick had gotten here. 

“Yeah c’mon Dicky-bird, you know you wanna get out there.” Roy reaches over Wally to prod him in the shoulder. “Don’t sit here with us sticks in the mud.”

Searching Wally’s gaze for that hint of concern isn’t hard. He can tell Wally’s trying to hide it, but they were both there this afternoon. Neither of them are going to forget what happened any time soon. 

It’s interesting how differently Wally is looking at him now. Dick had wondered if he’d find Wally watching him like he was waiting for Dick to break, to shatter like porcelain. He’s surprised to see admiration there instead, mixed with unmasked interest that has Dick’s heart thudding against his ribcage. 

“Maybe.” Dick murmurs, just to draw out the moment. “Not sure if I’m up for it tonight.”

“What?” Roy exclaims, and Dick just barely spares him a glance before looking back at Wally. “Since when does dancing  _ not  _ make you feel better?”

Dick doesn’t reply. He wants to see what Wally will do.

Wally licks his lips. “I’ll go if you go.”

And-- well. 

Who’s Dick to say no to that?

The beat pulses from the soles of his feet to the top of his head when he steps onto the dancefloor. It thrums through his whole body, working its way into his bloodstream and changing the way his heart pounds in his chest. The wild, untempered energy of the young and carefree surrounds him, seeps into his skin, makes him itch to move, to twist and jump and grind. To get lost in the rhythm.

[ _ This _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TRXod9ILSBk) _ crowded room, lost in the glances, a million chances _

Kori moves like liquid fire, somehow fluid and an inescapable, all-consuming blaze at the same time. She’s beautiful; hands in her hair, eyes closed, hips swaying. She’d attract many inadequate men if she wasn’t over 6 feet tall without heels and built like a brick shithouse. Her smile is blinding, her joy obvious and contagious, and Dick is proud to be worthy of dancing next to her.

And dance he does, lips curving into a smile, hands in the air as the beat picks up.

_ And I don't know what I'm looking for, but whatever it is, it's the cure _

The only difference to any other night they go out together, getting lost in sound and a crowd of strangers inebriated and loud, is that Wally is here on the dancefloor. Wally rarely dances with them when they go out, choosing instead to drink and laugh and hold the table with the others. Dick can count on one hand how many times he’s danced with Wally in the years they’ve been friends. And Wally’s not the best dancer by any means. He’s no Kori, and even Roy can dance circles around him - but never let it be said that what Wally lacks in skill, he doesn’t make up for in enthusiasm. 

Dick can’t catch his breath, and maybe that’s from the thick heat of the air or the claustrophobic press of a hundred bodies on the dancefloor. It can’t be from how close Wally is standing next to him, grinding his hips and brushing up against Dick like he means to. There’s a wide grin on his lips, eyes bright and flashing green under the lights and Dick has not one drop of alcohol in his system but he feels drunk on the way Wally’s watching him move.

_ Maybe it's nothing, maybe it's something, what I'm going through. Who's gonna love me right? _

Somehow, at some point, Dick loses track of Kori. He’d be concerned if he didn’t know that she can take care of herself better than he ever could. He figures she’s gone to the bar or something. It’s really hard to focus on that right now, though, because Wally’s fingers are tentatively curling around his hips. His eyes ask a question Dick can only answer by stepping closer, gripping Wally’s shoulders in an attempt to ground himself. It doesn’t work. 

_ 'Cause I'm tired of waiting so who's gonna save me tonight? _

Wally mimics his movement, swaying to the rhythm. Lets Dick lead the way. Apparently he’s not bad with a partner who knows what they’re doing, and heat starts to pool in the pit of Dick’s stomach when Wally pulls him so close he has to slip his arms around his neck. 

Dancing with Wally feels natural. They fit together like puzzle pieces, chest to chest, breath hot and rapid between lips closer than they’ve ever been. Dick wonders if this was intentional. If Wally had been planning on dancing like this with him tonight or if it was characteristically spur-of-the-moment. A classic Wally move. 

The fact that Wally’s been using his moves on him at all recently is bewildering enough. 

This moment, with Wally’s eyes lidded and thumbs pressing into his hip bones, would’ve made 16-year-old Dick’s heart give out. 

Dick doesn’t know who leans in first. He knows that his fingers are twined in the short curls at the nape of Wally’s neck. That Wally’s hands are burning against his sides, slipped just under the hem of Dick’s shirt and brushing lightly over skin. That something akin to gravity is pulling them closer and closer together.

The music is dull and muted around him. The flashing lights nothing in comparison to how Wally’s eyes flick down to look at his mouth, then back up to fix him with a stare so heated Dick feels his knees go weak. Wally’s lips twitch into a smile, and Dick realizes that he’s been watching Wally’s mouth too. 

So, this is what it’s like to be wanted by Wally West. 

The first time their lips touch, it’s like coming home. Wally is gentle and compliant and soft. Like Dick might shatter if he’s not careful enough, but Dick finds he doesn’t mind being breakable if Wally will hold him together like this. It’s like being enveloped in something warm and bright and subtly sweet. Like a blanket of comfort and kindness and love and-- oh. Is that what this is? 

When Dick pulls back, he only has a moment to appreciate Wally’s flushed cheeks and his bitten-back smile, because suddenly he’s being taken in again and--  _ oh _ .

The second time it happens, it’s like lightning. It’s hot and sharp and travels down his spine so fast he’s clinging to Wally’s shoulders just to keep his hands from shaking. Wally has Dick pressed to his chest, hunching down just a bit to meet him halfway, hands flat against his back. His mouth is open and slanted against Dick’s, tongue velvet and warm and enticing and-  _ jesus _ , where did Wally learn how to do that? 

Before long, Dick is dazed and breathless and everything he ever expected to be after kissing his best friend.

***

Clubbing is one of few things that really lets Roy get out of his own head. The thrumming of the bass and the deafening, all-consuming roar of voices running under the constant stream of music drown out any and every insidious thought, if he lets them. The booze helps too, although that’s not always necessary. The presence of his friends and a hundred other people are usually more than enough distraction that half the time he forgets to drink. 

Tonight, though… Tonight a beer is necessary. Possibly more than one. Because Wally just got up and left -- to  _ dance _ . With Dick. Wally never dances when they go out. Wally likes to drink and stay at the table and tell exuberant stories. Wally doesn’t like making a fool of himself on the dance floor. 

_ So why the hell is he dancing right now? _

Roy takes a long pull, then drags his thumb across the lip of the bottle to catch a stray drop before it can travel down the side. He looks up and sees Donna and Garth giggling to each other about something from the other side of the table. If he looks out into the crowd, he can just barely make out the top of Kori’s head, her hair even brighter under the neon lights, and Vic next to her.

Looks like she left Dick and Wally out there, which is odd. Usually if Dick is with her, they’ll dance together until someone drags them off to drink some damn water. They’re usually attached at the hip in a club. 

That means that Dick and Wally are out there somewhere, dancing together. Alone. Or, as alone as two people can be in a crowd of a hundred.

Roy scrubs a hand over his face, some stray condensation from the bottle smearing across his cheek. 

Wally wanted to stop sleeping together because he had feelings for  _ someone _ . So. Is that…? Those feelings he mentioned… were they for Dick? Is that who Wally was talking about? Because Roy gets that. He does. He can’t fault Wally for that, Dick is…  _ Dick _ . If anyone can understand complicated feelings about Dick, it’s him. But...

Roy frowns. 

Something about that feels like an arrow has lodged itself in his chest.

It doesn’t feel like jealousy. Roy glances at Donna, grinning at Garth, her eyes glazed and glittering from the colourful drink in her hand. No, he knows what jealousy feels like. 

Jealousy is heavy. Jealousy is hot and aggravating and pushy. Jealousy is a weight in your stomach, not a shot through the heart. And that’s what this is.

This crawls under his skin. This sticks in his throat, and burns behind his eyes and makes his hands clench into fists. This feels tight and uncompromising and entirely his own. 

This is inadequacy. 

This is Wally being with Roy, sleeping with Roy,  _ living  _ with Roy, and deciding he’d rather have someone else. Roy’s not worth his time anymore. He’s not what Wally wants.

Roy clears his throat and leans back against the peeling pleather bench, taking another sip. He stares out at the crowd for a distraction, but he’s not really seeing any of it. He doesn’t know why this feeling has lodged itself so firmly inside him. They’d decided that this was casual -- just physical. Wally’s stuck to that. Roy  _ established  _ that rule before they’d even gotten started. 

So… so why is Roy the one stuck feeling left behind?

Wally had said that he’d wanted to stop, just in case something “happened”. Which means he felt like something might. Which means he thinks he’s got a shot with Dick -- that Dick might want him too. 

Roy grits his teeth at the thought. Not that Wally is unworthy of Dick, of course not. Wally is… god, Wally is  _ Wally _ . He’s sunshine incarnate. And Dick deserves to stand in that light more than anyone. 

Okay, and now jealousy has nestled itself neatly beside inadequacy. 

“Uh, you might wanna let go of that bottle before you shatter it, Red.”

Roy blinks. Garth is watching his hands warily from across the table, and Roy looks down to see his white-knuckled grip on the beer bottle. He lets go, the glass sticking to his palm a bit from how tightly he’d been holding it. 

“You alright, Roy?” Donna asks, eyes wide with concern.

Roy swallows around the lump in his throat. “Uh. Yeah.”

“You sure?”

“Just… stressed.”

Donna pouts and shuffles around the bench to cuddle up next to him. Her winds her arms around his bicep, cheek on his shoulder. “What’s stressing you out?”

“It’s nothin’.” Roy feels his mouth twist into a bittersweet smile and ruffles her hair. “Don’t you worry your pretty lil head about me, Troy.”

Donna smacks his knee. “Bullshit. I know when you’re lying, Harper.”

“I know. Can you let it go, this time?”

Donna lifts her head and looks him in the eyes, her own flitting back and forth between them, trying to find something there to read into. Roy just watches her, his lips turning almost automatically into a smirk, but not quite. Eventually, the defiance in her shoulders slowly dissipates. 

“If that’s what you want.” She finally says, softly. 

Roy nods. “Just this once.”

“Okay.”

“God, it’s creepy when you two do that.” Garth says from across the table, swirling his straw in his drink. 

“Do what?” They say in unison, and when Garth grimaces Roy lets a laugh bubble out of him. 

“Like a pair of fuckin’ mind readers…”

Donna twines her fingers with his, squeezing tight. Roy returns the pressure and bumps his elbow against hers. She drags him into conversation with Garth, reigniting their debate about whether or not Garfield is going to break something tonight as an excuse to not take his midterms. He feels the tightness in his chest loosen a little the longer she sits close to him. 

It doesn’t last for long though, because now he can finally make out Dick and Wally at the edge of the crowd. They’ve made their way over to where Kori and Vic are watching Gar attempt to break dance, and Wally... Wally has his arm around Dick’s shoulders. 

It’s not an unusual thing to see. Dick draws out affection from all of his friends, and Wally is no exception. But again, something about it ties a knot in Roy’s stomach, and it’s only when Donna squeezes his hand that he realizes his grip on hers has tightened again. He lets his hand drift up to her wrist and gives it a gentle squeeze in apology before letting go. 

“I think I’m gonna take a walk.” Roy says.

“Oh, okay.” When Donna turns to him, there’s concern lingering in her eyes again. “You sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah.” He lies. 

She nods, giving his knee a pat before he starts sliding out of the booth. He just about makes it to the end of the bench seat to stand up, only to bump directly in Wally. He catches Roy in the shoulder gently before either of them go tumbling. 

“Oh sorry!” Wally laughs, his freckled cheeks flushed red. “Didn’t see you comin’ out there, Speedy.”

“You leaving, Roy?” 

Dick peeks out from behind Wally to ask, and it’s only then that Roy realizes Wally caught him with one hand because the other is clasped with Dick’s.

Roy steps out of the way so the two of them can slide onto the bench seat. Donna’s pulling at Dick’s arm to pull him next to her, the two of them laughing as Wally stumbles his way into his seat next to Dick. Something clenches in his chest at the sight of them together.

“Uh.” Roy catches himself thinking about that for far too long and shakes his head. He hasn’t answered the question. He looks back at Dick to respond, who’s equally as flushed and tousled as Wally. It doesn’t make him feel any better. “Yeah. Gonna get another drink. Take a stroll.”

Wally squints at him, and now his eyes hold the same concern that was in Donna’s and it puts a bad taste in Roy’s mouth. “You oka--?”

“I’m fine.” He interrupts, turning to leave. He doesn’t want to deal with this right now.

Wally grabs his wrist before he can get too far. “Bullshit, what’s wrong?”

Sometimes he’s glad that his friends know him well enough to question when somethings wrong just by the tone of his voice. Sometimes it’s nice not to have to say it out loud. That they care enough to call him on it when he tries to hide. 

This is not one of those times. 

“I’m fine, West. Leave it.” 

“He’s stressed.” Garth calls out from the table, and both of them turn to see him gesturing haphazardly towards the dance floor. Looks like that colourful drink in his hand has started to take effect. “You should go out and blow off some steam, Red.”

“What?”

Garth rolls his eyes. “Go and find someone to help you loosen up a little.”

The hand around his wrist tightens just a fraction, so slightly that he wouldn’t have felt it if he wasn’t so hyper aware of Wally’s touch. 

And that’s… that’s beyond confusing.

Roy pulls his arm out Wally’s grip. “Maybe.”

“I mean really,” Garth continues, the cocktail clearly loosening his tongue. “When was the last time you got laid, man?”

He can feel Wally’s eyes on him now, and it’s almost like a dare. 

“Can’t recall.” He says simply. 

Garth gesticulates a little wildly, and Donna has to quickly move her own glass out of his reach before he can knock it over. “Then that’s what you need!”

All eyes at the table are on him now, and honestly the attention isn’t unwarranted. He’s not one to shy away from a one night stand, all of his friends know that. They’re all waiting on some snarky comment about finding a good lay or coming home late. They all expect the usual sarcasm and smirk, but he’s not sure he has it in him for that right now. That sharp feeling burrowed in his sternum has him all twisted up inside.

Roy can feel Wally’s eyes on him more than ever. Dick, too, but not with the kind of weighted stare that Wally has fixed on him. He wonders if Wally expects him to air out their dirty laundry. He wonders if he should. He wonders if Wally even cares. 

But really, Roy thinks, his hands curling into fists, why should he care what Wally thinks? What business does Wally have being concerned about him and where he goes and who he sleeps with? Why should Roy care when Wally’s still got Dick’s hand in his like he doesn’t plan to let go?

“Yeah,” He starts, making eye contact with Wally again, the words forming before he can stop them, and at this point he’s not sure if he wants to. “Gotta find another way to scratch that itch now, don’t I?”


	4. if it means a lot to you

“Gotta find another way to scratch that itch now, don’t I?”

Roy’s tone is amused, his smile smug, but Wally feels like he’s been slapped. Like the air’s been punched from his lungs. He’s frozen in his seat, the leather hot and sticky beneath him. He watches Roy turn on his heel without looking back, disappearing into the mass of bodies writhing on the dance floor like he hadn’t just destroyed Wally from the inside out. His eyelids flutter half-closed, heavy from the ache in his chest. He reaches for his beer like it’s a lifeline, taking a long pull, savouring the burn in his throat.

Fuck this.

“What... did he mean by that?”

For a moment, with Roy’s eyes on him and tunneling his vision until nothing else mattered, Wally had almost forgotten he’s not alone at the table. Garth and Donna are looking at him with a mixture of glee and awe - Donna has her hands in the air like she’s about to grab him, and Garth’s are clapped together, pressed to his lips under a set of wide, disbelieving eyes.

It was Dick’s voice that had caught his attention though, and looking at him now makes Wally’s stomach twist in agony. There’s surprise on his features, sure, but it’s mixed with resignation and an undercurrent of judgement that has bile settling in the back of Wally’s throat. Oh god. 

He swallows, searching for the right words, but looking every second he spends looking at Dick sends them flying out of his head. “I--”

“Wallace. West.” Donna sounds like she’s about to lose her shit. “Did Roy Harper just insinuate what I think he just insinuated?” 

“Um.”

Garth bursts out laughing so loud that Wally jumps. Donna just starts yelling.

“He _so_ did -- oh my _god! Wally!”_

Wally lets out a shaky breath. “It-- uh, it’s not--”

“ _WALLY_ ! You-- _oh_ my god? When-- _how_ ?” Donna lunges across Dick’s lap to reach him, grabbing Wally by the shoulders, her eyes a little glassy but intense as hell all the same. “You fucker, I cannot _believe_ you kept this from us!”

“Can you blame me?” Wally exclaims, trying to lean out of her reach but Donna’s grip is too strong.

“Holy shit I’m gonna kill him.”

“Is he good?” Garth sips on his cocktail, straw between his teeth and framed by the biggest shit-eating grin Wally’s ever seen on Garth’s face. 

The heat in the club is stifling, but Wally’s sure his face is too red to use that as an excuse. “I’m not talking about this.”

“I’m killing both of you. Gods, this friend group is gay.”

“Are you guys dating?”

“Of course they’re not dating, they were fucking, did not you not just see--”

“ _Guys_.” And that’s Dick’s leader-voice. That’s his ‘we’re about to get in shit so listen to me’ voice. They’ve all heard it enough times in past years to fall silent. Dick looks- well, not angry, but close. Wally sinks a little lower in his seat. “Knock it off.”

Donna lets go of Wally, leaning away from where she’d stretched out over Dick’s lap, and grimaces at him. Wally swears he sees some pity there. “Oh. Um--”

And then, as luck would have it, Vic and Gar show up again, sliding into the booth. Garth shifts closer to Donna to make room. Wally wants the floor to swallow him up then and there. 

Garfield plucks Wally’s bottle out of his loose grip and takes a swig, perched on the balls of his feet at the end of the bench seat. “You guys should see the way Roy is moving out there right now, my dudes.”

“It’s fuckin’ filthy,” Victor adds, “he’s totally out to get laid tonight.”

Garth chokes on his drink. Dick is tense. Donna just puts her face in her hands, obviously trying to restrain herself. 

Wally kind of wants to die.

Neither of the two newcomers take any notice.

“I’d be disgusted if I wasn’t weirdly proud.”

“Right?” Vic knocks the neck of his own bottle against the one in Gar’s hands, and they both drink to that. It’s only after Vic places his beer back on the table that he clues into the deafening silence. He glances at each of them, clearly uncomfortable, and squints in confusion. “Uh. Okay, what did we miss?”

“Huh?” 

Wally would usually laugh at Gar’s lack of awareness, but he doesn’t have the energy, so he settles for snatching his bottle out of the kid’s hand. He’s not really allowed to be drinking anyway. Wally shoves, not too gently, at Gar to shuffle along the bench seat to get out. “I’m getting some air.”

Gar trips as he stumbles out of the booth but rights himself quickly enough, brow raised. “Dude?” 

“Don’t wait up.”

He doesn’t look back. Not when Donna calls after him. Not when he hears Vic’s booming _“WHAT?”_ from halfway down the aisle. Just focuses on putting one foot in front of the other. Somewhere along the way he loses his drink. Doesn’t matter. 

Eventually, Wally finds himself in the bathroom, staring at his reflection, the countertop soaking wet and slimy under his hands. He doesn’t really care. It’s kinda grounding, in a gross way. 

His red hair is dark with sweat, the front plastered to his forehead. Green irises stare back at him surrounded by bloodshot white. He’s thankful he wore black, otherwise his shirt would look as damp as it feels. Jesus, he’s a mess.

How did things get so fucked up?

About to brush his hair away from his face, then thinking better of it after noticing how nasty his hands are, Wally sighs and turns the tap on as cold as it’ll go. The water pressure is shit but it’s good enough to rinse his hands and splash some water over his face. It’s a shock, but he needs it. Needs the clarity it brings. 

Okay. So, Roy’s clearly not above teasing him for their… relationship. If you can call it teasing. All of their friends know now because of that - including Dick, who’s the one person they were most worried about finding out. 

And oh _god--_

_Dick_. 

Shit. It’s not like he and Roy had meant anything by hiding it. Pretending they didn’t know each other so intimately kept things from getting messy. It was just easier that way.

Right?

Fuck. Wally needs to stop lying to himself. 

“Hey…”

Wally looks up, wet hair dripping into his eyes, and finds Dick’s reflection in the mirror, standing behind him.

“Dick--” Wally turns around, gripping the edge of the sink and once again coating his hands in old soap and god knows what. “Uh--”

“I know you said not to wait up, but, um.” Dick rubs the back of his neck. “I was worried about you. Sorry.”

Wally swallows. “It’s fine.”

Dick steps a little closer, avoiding some weird patch of orange liquid splattered on the tiles between them. He doesn’t quite meet Wally’s eye. Just sort of stares at the ground.

He looks so fucking good that Wally wants to scream. The blue tank top just barely hanging onto his shoulders brings out his eyes. There’s a sheen of sweat over his skin that somehow just looks like he’s glistening. Dick fucking _glistens_ like some romance novel love interest and it’s so unfair. His hair, longer than it’s ever been, is fluffy and tousled and perfect, stark black in the shitty bathroom lighting. Wally wants to bury his face in that hair forever and never leave. Dick looks so good, and just a bit heartbroken, and Wally wants nothing more than to make that look on his face go away.

He’d felt good too, in Wally’s arms tonight. It’d been great, dancing with Dick like they belonged to each other. Like no one else mattered or even existed around them. It felt like maybe this thing between them could be something more than just Wally dissolving in his own messed up, complicated emotions. Like maybe he could forget how his heart pulls in two directions.

Kissing him was something else entirely. Kissing him was like something out of a dream. Euphoric and intense and soft all at once. Dick had melted in Wally’s arms the moment he’d gotten the courage to lean in and capture his mouth. It was like he’d never been kissed like that before.

Dick had felt unattainable for so long. Just barely out of reach, something too perfect for Wally to ask for. And this afternoon, finding Dick alone and aching inside, pulling apart at the seams, his flaws bleeding out between the cracks - it just made Wally love him more.

It had made him wonder if maybe Dick could love him too.

And then Roy just had to open his goddamn mouth.

“I’m sorry.” Wally whispers, and in the silence of the bathroom it’s louder than a gunshot. 

“What?” Dick asks, and Wally winces. “Why?”

“For…” 

_For kissing you when I know you aren’t the only one I care about._ Wally thinks. _For making you think less of me. For wanting more than I should ever be allowed to have._

“For lying to you.” Wally says finally, and it’s only because that’s true too that his voice doesn’t shake. 

A beat passes. Wally thinks it’s the longest moment of silence he’s ever experienced. And then Dick is sighing, and he’s leaning against the countertop beside Wally. Their shoulders brush. 

“You didn’t lie.” Dick murmurs. Wally can’t look at him yet, but that surprises him enough to look up at the wall across from them instead of the floor. “You just… didn’t tell us. It’s not like we had any right to know, anyway.”

“I still…” Wally swallows. Tries again. “We just… thought it would be easier. To not tell anyone. It would’ve made things too complicated.”

“Right.” He can feel how tightly Dick is gripping the edge of the sink beside him. “So. It was just-”

“It was just-...” Wally interrupts, then chokes on the words. He feels like throwing up. He forces them out anyway. “It was just sex. We aren’t-- we _weren’t_ dating.”

“Right.” Dick says again. “How long?”

“What?”

“How long have you… Or, how long since you two…?”

“Oh.” Wally licks his lips. He tries to shove down that awful pressure in his sternum. “Few months. I um, I broke it off a while ago.”

“Why?”

Wally almost feels like he’s being interrogated, and he’s been on the receiving end of a few conversations like this with Dick to know that’s exactly what’s happening. Dick wants answers. Wally’s going to give them. 

“Because... “ With a sigh, Wally turns and snags some paper towel out of the dispenser, scrubbing the mess from his hands aggressively. It helps a little, the sting. “I started getting feelings I shouldn’t have. So I stopped it before anyone got hurt.”

“You mean you.”

Wally grits his teeth. “Obviously.”

“And what did Roy say when you told him?”

“He said he was fine with it.”

He can see Dick out of the corner of his eye now, still unable to look at him directly. He seems tense. Wally sure is. 

“So.” Dick lets out a deep sigh, and he’s tipping his head forward to stare even more dejectedly at the ground. “Tonight was... I mean, the last _month,_ you’ve been… That kiss-- was I just--?”

Wally feels his eyes go wide, and he’s reaching out to Dick before he can stop himself. Dick flinches at his outstretched hand. Wally hates himself for it. “No! _God_ no, no you weren’t _just_ anything- you’ve never been _just_ anything!” 

“So, then, what?”

Dick’s eyes are so big, and so blue, and Wally’s chest feels like it’s caving in.

“I-- I--... I don’t know!” Wally struggles for the right words and comes up empty. There’s nothing he can say that isn’t devastating for both of them. He drags his hands over his face, turning around so he doesn’t have to look at Dick when he finds his voice. “I just… I care about you. So much. So much it’s crushing sometimes, but… I also…”

“You care about Roy too.” Dick finishes the sentence for him. 

Wally sighs. “Yeah.”

There’s a beat of silence, and it takes all of Wally’s courage to turn back and took at Dick again. He’s surprised to find, not hurt or hatred, but a look of quiet contemplation on Dick’s face. It’s the last thing he’d expected, and he’s not sure what to do about it. 

“Dick..?”

Wally jumps when Dick pushes away from the sink, catching his eye with such a strange look in his own that Wally feels a shiver run down his spine.

Dick steps closer, and after a second that lasts an eternity, he curls a hand around the edge of Wally’s jaw. Wally, frozen in place, blinks at him. And then Dick is leaning in to press a gentle, featherlight kiss to his cheek.

“I’m gonna sort this out.”

And with that, Dick turns on his heel and walks determinedly out the door. 

Wally has never been more confused in his life. 

***

Finding Roy in the throng of swaying bodies is no easy task, but Dick does it eventually. He leans against the bar top and watches as Roy moves to the beat, several people standing just this side of too close, but Roy doesn’t seem to care. It looks like he’s enjoying the attention.

Dick orders a soda from the bartender, and when he turns around again, Roy is making his way through the crowd towards him. Dick presses his tongue to the roof of his mouth, dropping his gaze and staring into his glass. He’s not sure how to go about this, but with the tumultuous anger humming under his skin, he doesn’t really know if he’s going to get a choice in the matter.

“Hey pretty bird.” Roy drawls, leaning his elbows against the bar and grinning at him sycophantically. That’s from the booze. 

Dick doesn’t say anything yet, just stares wordlessly at his friend until the grin drops. Roy stands up straight, his expression sobering up a bit. 

“Dick?” He says, as quietly as he can over the bass. “Everything okay?”

“I’m fine.” Dick replies, and he can hear that his voice is unsettlingly even. It’s intentional. He takes a sip of his drink. “Wally’s not.”

“Wally?” Roy frowns. “What happened?”

“Don’t be a dick.” 

“I don’t--”

Dick turns to Roy, leveling him with a look. “You found someone to scratch that itch yet?”

Roy’s mouth snaps shut. Dick glares at him. The seconds tick by as they stare at each other. 

Roy sucks his teeth and leans against the bar, waving down the bartender to order a shot of deep amber liquid. “I know you’re not one to sleep around, Dickie, but I didn’t think you’d judge someone for it."

“That’s not what this is about.”

Roy scoffs, downing his shot before responding. “Right. So Wally’s off the hook for sleeping with me casually, but I get the stern talking-to.”

“I’m not letting anyone ‘off the hook’--”

“Of course not.”

Dick shoves him, not too gently. Roy stumbles a bit but he’s sturdy enough not to fall. Dick knew he wouldn’t.

Roy boggles at him and stands up straight again. “What the fuck was that?”

“Don’t be an asshole, you know why I’m here.”

“Oh? Enlighten me.”

“Wally told me how he called things off with you. You said you were fine with it.”

“I am!”

“So what the fuck was that comment, then?”

“It was a joke!” Roy exclaims. “I didn’t think it would mean anything to him. Clearly _I_ don’t.”

Dick rolls his eyes. “Oh, bullshit.”

“What?” Roy throws his hands in the air. “All he told me was that he was developing feelings for someone else and that he wanted to call it off so things didn’t get weird. So why should I think that there were feelings there to get hurt by anything _I_ say?”

“Did he say ‘else’?”

Roy blinks. There’s a pause, and then-- “What?”

“Did he say someone _‘else’_?” Dick says again, softly.

Roy opens his mouth, but nothing comes out, confusion clear on his face. 

Dick sighs, placing his drink down on the bar. “Did you consider the possibility that Wally -- our friend, the master of avoidance -- was developing feelings for _you_ and called things off because he thought you wouldn’t want him like that?”

“I--...” Roy sputters. All the tension, all the defiance, leaves his body in one fell motion as he drops his arms to his sides. “I didn’t... I thought he wanted _you_.”

“Yeah, well.” Dick swallows around the lump in his throat. “I think he wanted you first.”

Roy frowns. “Do you..?” 

“Doesn’t matter.” Dick interrupts, shaking his head. Roy cocks an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything. “What matters is that you owe Wally an apology, for one. You left him with Donna’s wrath after dropping that bomb.” Roy chokes out a laugh. “And you guys need to talk. Like, _really_ talk.”

“Did he… did he tell you that?”

“That you need to talk?”

“That he… wants _me_?”

“He told me he cares about you.” Dick says, proud that the words don’t catch in his throat. He doesn’t mention what else Wally had said.

Roy shakes his head, looking dazed. “I am… way too drunk to be thinking about this right now.”

“Yeah, probably.” Dick huffs. “Maybe sober up and talk to him in the morning. And don’t forget to apologize.”

“Yeah… Okay.”

Dick picks up his drink again and pushes away from the bar, narrowly avoiding two very drunk girls who worm their way into where he’d been standing. 

When he finds Kori and Donna out on the dance floor, all it takes is one look at him for them to insist on taking him home. He doesn’t fight it. Donna leads him outside while Kori goes to tell the others, one hand holding his while the other wraps around his waist. Her touch, soft and warm, is a comfort he needs. 

He’d been an idiot to think that maybe, after everything that happened today, maybe he and Wally could be more than just… just pretend. Maybe he could have what he’s been wanting all these years. It wouldn’t be _everything_ he’d wanted but… but Wally would be more than enough. Of course he would. 

But that kind of luck has never been in his cards. 

The look on Roy’s face when Dick had suggested the mere possibility of Wally having feelings for him… it told him everything he’d needed to know. The two of them already slept together-- no wonder they’d both gotten so tangled up in each other. They lived together, spent more time together then the rest of them. It was only a matter of time. 

Roy and Wally deserve happiness. If removing himself from the situation is what’s needed to make that happen, then that’s what he’ll do. Dick has always done what needs doing -- this is no exception.

The ache that bleeds through him at the thought is one he’ll learn to stanch.


	5. false confidence

Wally doesn’t want to leave his room.

Not this morning, not today, never again. 

Getting back here alone last night was strange enough -- hearing Roy stumble in an hour later (alone) made the world tilt more than the alcohol. It was rare on a night out that they came home separately. The last time they went out, they didn’t separate until the next day, waking up together to afternoon sunlight shining in through Roy’s window. 

But this time… this time, Wally had gotten _this close_ to having something real with Dick. Roy hadn’t even entered his mind the whole time they were on the dance floor. It was just the two of them in a sea of people who melted away the second Dick was in his arms. 

And yet, Dick disappeared after their conversation in the bathroom. When Wally finally found the courage to go back to the table, Garth informed him that Dick, Donna, and Kori had all left. Roy was nowhere to be found. Vic and Gar were watching him with a strange mix of awe and sympathy, and Wally wanted nothing to do with it. He’d left, after that. Fuck it, Roy could get his own cab home. Wally wasn’t waiting around for him after the shit he pulled.

Now, Wally’s stomach is complaining at him. Has been for the last twenty minutes. It’s been at least an hour since he woke up, and he hasn’t left his room. He knows he has to eventually -- his bladder has entered the fray at this point, and it won’t be long before it wins the fight -- but god, if he could hole up in here for the rest of his life, he’d do it. 

Outside his room is the possibility of Roy. Outside are his friends and all their questions. Outside is… well, there’s the possibility of Dick, too. 

Wally rolls over and unplugs his phone from where it’s been charging on his nightstand. There’s messages from Garth, Vic, and Kori, all letting him know they got home safe. A twitter notification he doesn’t care about. An email from his T.A. that he ignores. 

Nothing from Dick. 

Wally swallows around the lump in his throat. Maybe his phone died before he fell asleep last night. Maybe… maybe he just hasn’t woken up yet. He glances at the time at the top of the screen: 

**_11:27am._ **

It’s possible.

His stomach growls loudly again, and this time Wally sits up with a sigh. No point in prolonging the inevitable anymore than he already has. He shrugs on a worn sweater with their university logo on it, and cracks his door open a fraction to gauge whether or not Roy is awake yet, and--

...and he can smell… waffles?

Wally blinks, and opens his door all the way. Roy’s door across the hall is open, the light switched off. The telltale sounds of cooking are coming from the kitchen, alongside the scent of coffee and, yep, that’s definitely waffles. 

What the fuck?

After attending to his very demanding bladder situation, Wally shuffles down the hallway to the living room, which is empty. He frowns, but he’s also not sure what else he expected. Peeking around the doorway into the kitchen, Wally finds Roy standing at the counter with his back to him. He’s wearing boxers and an old baggy t-shirt, his copper hair sticking up in all directions, as he pours a ladle of batter into the waffle iron, flipping it carefully.

He doesn’t know how much time has passed when Roy turns around, but Wally can’t do much more than blink in confusion when Roy finally notices him standing in the doorway. 

“Oh, hey…” Roy says, his voice a soft rasp. “Good morning.”

“Uh,” Wally clears his throat, “Morning.”

“I, um. I thought I’d make some hangover food.” Roy gestures to the waffle iron, and the stack piled on a plate next to it. “There’s coffee in the pot, if you want it.”

“Thanks…”

Wally shuffles past him to the coffee machine, not entirely sure what’s happening but not wanting to break the gentle calm between them just yet. He plucks his usual mug out of the cupboard and pours coffee, creamer, and an admittedly absurd amount of sugar into it. He can feel Roy’s eyes on him, and before his usual retort about his sweet tooth can make it out, he registers that Roy’s not looking at him, but rather what he’s wearing. 

He glances down, and feels his face flush when he realizes that he’s wearing _Roy’s_ uni sweater. He hadn’t noticed which one he’d picked up off the floor. Hadn’t even realized he still had it in the first place. 

Shit.

Roy looks away when Wally turns around, which he’s grateful for. He holds his mug close to his face, letting the steam warm his nose and cheeks and hopefully providing some cover for the brilliant shade of red he knows he’s sporting. 

“So,” Roy breaks the silence again, reaching into the cupboard next to Wally’s head for two plates. “I uh… I thought maybe we could… talk.”

Wally tries to take a long sip of his coffee to avoid answering, but it’s still too hot for that to really work. “About what?”

Letting out a long breath, Roy stacks three waffles onto a plate and turns to Wally, holding it out like some sort of peace offering. “About last night.”

He takes the plate tentatively in his free hand. “Last night?”

Roy nods. “And, y’know… us.”

“Us?”

“Yeah… Are you okay?” 

“Hm?”

“You just keep repeating things back to me, are you… like, are you ready to have a conversation, or…?”

Wally blinks a few times. “Uh.”

“Cuz we don’t have to--”

“No, no…” Wally places his mug on the counter, then turns to rummage around in the cutlery drawer for two sets of knives and forks. He holds them out to Roy. “Sure, let’s talk.”

Roy gives him a strange look, which is kind of warranted, but takes the utensils nonetheless. 

It’s not that he doesn’t _want_ to figure all this out with Roy. He does. Regardless of their messed up situation, Roy is still one of his best friends and he wants them to come out of this okay. He’s just… well he’s not entirely sure why Roy is the one instigating this conversation in the first place. This is a total one-eighty from how he was acting last night. If that’s knocking Wally a little off balance, who could blame him?

Wally heads over to the kitchen table, placing his plate down in front of his usual chair. He’s about to make his way to the fridge for syrup when the bottle appears next to him. Looking up, he finds Roy standing close, placing both maple and corn syrup down in the center of the table.

Wally meets his eye, and Roy flashes him a small smile.

“Thanks…”

“No worries.”

Soon enough, they’re both settled at the table, eating quietly across from each other like any other morning. 

It feels more normal than it should, all things considered. 

“So…” Roy starts, pushing one of his last pieces of waffle through puddles of maple syrup. “About… last night.”

Wally takes another bite. “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.”

He blinks. 

“For… for telling everyone about us like that. Or. I guess, implying it? Either way, it put you in an uncomfortable position and I shouldn’t have done it. I felt…” Roy grimaces and shakes his head. “No, what I was feeling doesn’t matter. It wasn’t right of me to share that without talking to you about it. I shouldn’t have said that. And I’m sorry that I did.”

Wally stops chewing. 

That… was the most concise and coherent apology he’s ever heard come out of Roy’s mouth, and he’s heard a lot of Roy’s apologies during their friendship. Wally takes a moment to swallow his food before saying anything, taking that time to think about what he wants to say. 

“Thank you…?” He starts, pushing his mostly empty plate way from himself to rest his elbows on the table. “Um… I appreciate that.”

Roy nods. He’s fiddling with his butter knife, and Wally watches him pass it between his nimble fingers a few times before speaking again. 

“It was… Well, it wasn’t exactly _fun_ , navigating that topic with Donna…” He says. Roy breathes out a quiet laugh, and Wally’s surprised to find that the sound settles something inside him. “I just… why did you do it?”

Roy grimaces again. “That…” He rubs at his eyes, then drags his hands up through his hair in frustration. “Ugh. It’s stupid.”

“Okay.”

Roy’s lips twitch upwards a little. “That’s to be expected though, right?”

“I mean, you said it, not me.”

He tuts, tilting his head to the side a little as if to say _‘touche’_. It’s another moment before Roy speaks again, and when he does, he’s looking anywhere but at Wally. 

“I… I didn’t like how it made me feel, seeing you with Dick.”

Wally feels his eyebrows shoot towards his hairline.

Roy notices his silence, and shrugs. “Yeah.”

“Wh… uh.” Wally clears his throat again. “What do you mean?”

He sighs. “It felt like… Like you were choosing him, over me. Which is stupid, I know, because there’s no choice to be made there. But it still… I dunno, it felt like I wasn’t enough for you. And that felt… Anyway, I guess it made me angry in some way, because I… I lashed out. Which I know I do sometimes, but I never wanted to do that to you, and I’m really sorry that I did. There’s no excuse.”

“Wait, wait,” Wally waves his hands between them, “Hold on, go back. It made you feel like…. Like you weren’t enough?”

“Yeah…”

“For me?”

He nods, a stray lock of hair falling between his eyes. 

“Why would you worry about being good enough… for me?”

Roy frowns, eyes flickering briefly in disbelief, then flooding with resigned understanding. “I guess I... I haven’t really made it clear to you, huh?”

If Wally thought he was confused last night, it’s nothing in comparison to how he feels right now. He shakes his head.

Wally watches Roy’s shoulders curl in, his hands falling into his lap beneath the table, and all of a sudden he’s reminded of a bashful, gangly 14 year old Roy finally admitting to his crush on Donna. 

“I might have... feelings.” He starts, and it honestly looks kind of painful. “For you…” 

Wally’s heart stops.

“...and for Dick.”

And now… now it’s thundering somewhere in the region of his throat.

The silence that settles between them is deafening. It’s that moment in the bathroom last night all over again, but he’s on the other side this time. It’s a very strange place to be. Roy glances up at him for a split second before looking away. Wally still hasn’t quite collected himself enough to react. 

He’s not sure how long they sit there before Roy speaks again. 

“I know that-- You said you called things off between us because you developed feelings for someone, and after last night I thought it was Dick, but he… he thought. I mean he said that maybe you… Either way it doesn’t matter, you deserve to know that I…” Roy lets out a frustrated huff, and rubs at his eyes. “Look, I should’ve told you earlier that all of this--” He gestures between them. “--did something to me. You’re… I mean, you’re _you_. How could it not? But if that’s not where you’re at, it doesn’t matter. I just thought--”

Wally stands up before Roy can finish his next sentence, and consequently Roy trails off, his mouth agape.

After the shit Roy pulled last night, Wally thought he’d be pissed off with him for days. He thought he’d work his way around to forgiving Roy eventually. He never expected a full apology, let alone… this. 

The memory of last night still leaves a bad taste in his mouth. It definitely wasn’t okay, and Roy will be making up for it properly, that’s for sure. But… looking down at him now, shoulders hunched and eyes wide, Wally can’t really find it in himself to be truly pissed off anymore when Roy so clearly regrets it. 

Hearing that Roy... that he feels _exactly_ how Wally does, every day, about his two best friends -- feeling like he'd never be good enough for either of them?

Maybe it's worn down his resolve more than it should, but at this point he's not sure he cares. 

Roy’s eyes are locked on him as he steps around the table, and Wally still feels hesitant but this… this feels like the right thing to do. He stands next to Roy’s chair, where Roy is just watching him now, and kicks at one of the legs. Roy blinks. Wally kicks again, and it’s then that Roy seems to get it. He pushes away from the table, turning to face Wally, and the moment there’s room Wally settles himself in Roy’s lap.

“Um.” Roy manages to get out, his hands hovering over Wally’s sides, as if he’s waiting for permission. Wally places both hands firmly on Roy’s shoulders, which works well as a way of giving it to him. Roy’s hands settle gently on his hips, and they fit there just as nicely as they’ve done dozens of times before.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you ramble more than me.” Wally murmurs. Roy opens his mouth to reply to that but Wally doesn’t give him the chance. “We’re a pretty well-matched pair of idiots, you and I.” He starts, one thumb rubbing absent-mindedly over Roy’s collarbone. 

His eyes glance between Wally’s rapidly, searching. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

“Why’s that?”

“We spent all that time, feeling the way we do, and didn’t realize it until Dick knocked our heads together. We’re fucking _roommates_ and couldn’t get our shit together long enough to see what was right in front of us.”

The corners of Roy’s mouth curl into an almost reluctant smile. Wally chuckles, and Roy joins him, and now they’ve got their foreheads pressed together, holding on tight to each other as they both shake with laughter. 

“A well-matched pair of idiots.” Roy repeats, his laugh deep and warm.

Wally’s cheeks hurt from smiling. 

With his arms around Roy like this, things between them feel… different. Not a bad different. They just never did things like this before. Casual affection is Dick’s thing, not theirs. They’ve never been very touchy, even when they slept together. It was a boundary they just didn’t cross. But now… Now it feels necessary. Like a physical confirmation of what they’ve both been feeling-- what they’ve both been _wanting_ this whole time. 

Which--

“This is where I’m at, by the way.” Wally says, sliding his hands up to rest on the sides of Roy’s neck and settling a little closer in his lap. He can feel goosebumps rise at his touch, and a thrill runs through him. _Wally_ did that. To Roy Harper. “Just so you know.”

“Yeah?” Roy bumps his nose against Wally’s, his usual smirk set firmly on his lips now. It’s as much a comfort as it is infuriating. “And where’s that?”

Wally doesn’t bother gracing that question with a reply, instead choosing to close the distance between them.

It’s not that they haven’t kissed before. They have. It’s just that every time they’ve kissed in the past, there’s been an undercurrent of uncertainty, restrictions set on what he could and couldn’t allow his heart to feel. Kissing was a byproduct of sleeping together. They hadn’t felt the need to not kiss, because it felt ridiculous to both of them to _not_ kiss during sex. So they did. 

But this… there’s no ulterior motive this time. There’s no wandering hands or impatient fumbling. Roy is steady beneath him, strong arms holding him close and locking Wally against his chest. He’s gentle, but firm, like he’s afraid Wally might disappear if he does this wrong. Like if he lets go, this won’t be real. Wally curls both arms around Roy’s neck, pressing closer, as if that’s even possible. He wills as much reassurance into the kiss as he can muster.

Wally’s not going anywhere. 

When they finally break apart for air, Wally rests his forehead against Roy’s again. Roy’s cheeks are unusually flushed, lips plush and parted but seemingly set in a permanent smile. 

"You still owe me for last night."

Roy's smile widens into a devilish grin. "I'll make it up to you any way you like."

Wally feels his cheeks flush, and he punches him hard in the shoulder. Roy just squeezes him tighter around the waist, and Wally will not admit to liking that feeling as much as he does. 

Or... maybe he will, now.

“Are we finally on the same page, then? For real?”

“I dunno…” Roy hums. “I’d kind of like to hear it…”

Wally rolls his eyes, then presses another quick peck to Roy’s mouth. “I’m into you too, you idiot.”

Roy kisses him again, almost like it’s some kind of competition. “That’s more like it.”

“You’re going to be insufferable about this now, aren’t you?”

“Aw, you know me so well.”

Wally lets out an exaggerated huff, resting his temple on Roy’s shoulder. Almost instantly he feels Roy start carding his fingers through the curls on top of his head. It seems like they were both holding back on the casual affection thing.

He’s content to stay there as long as Roy will let him, the silence between them comfortable now, until--

“Wait,” Wally sits up again, placing both hands on Roy’s chest. Roy cocks an eyebrow at him. “You said something about Dick thinking… what, that I had feelings for you? He said that?”

Roy nods. “Yeah, he came and found me last night and kinda… laid into me about what I said. And he was right, but he also made me realize that maybe you, um. Maybe _I_ was the reason you broke things off.”

“But he, like…” Wally falters for a moment. “He _said_ that to you?”

“He said…” Roy frowns, his eyes unfocused like he’s trying to remember more clearly. “He said that you probably broke things off because you started getting feelings--” Wally concedes, nodding. “--and when I asked how he felt about it, because I saw the two of you earlier, and he said… he said it didn’t matter. Which I kind of thought was bullshit.”

Wall grimaces, closing his eyes. “Fuck.”

“Yep, definitely bullshit.”

“He came and found me last to talk about what you said, because we…” He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Well, we kissed, last night. When we were dancing. And then after I ran off... we talked about it, and he said he was going to ‘sort this out’."

A myriad of emotions pass through Roy’s expression: confusion, exasperation, a flash of hurt, and surprisingly, a spark of interest. Wally waits, watching the gears turn in Roy’s head. 

“Wait, do you think he…?”

“Put aside his own feelings so we could figure ourselves out?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, absolutely.”

“Motherfucker.”

“My sentiments exactly.”

Roy leans back in his seat, staring up at the ceiling. “Why wouldn’t he just _talk_ to us about it?”

“I mean,” Wally shrugs. “We don’t really have much ground to stand on with that, do we?”

Roy meets his eye again, and it’s only a split second before they’re laughing again. It feels really good to laugh with him like this again. No weird tension, no avoidance. Just the two of them, comfortable and close, like they should be. And yet… Wally feels an odd pang in his chest.

There’s still something missing, and he knows exact what-- _who_ \-- that something is. 

As if on cue, Roy clears his throat. "So... You guys kissed last night?”

Wally resists the urge to roll his eyes, watching Roy try to fake nonchalance. It doesn’t work.

He strokes his thumb over the edge of Roy’s jaw. “Yes. You and I also kissed just now.”

“Yeah, I’m not forgetting that anytime soon.”

“I should hope not!” 

Roy squeezes him around the middle. “So, uh… How was it?”

“Roy.” Wally squints at him. “You’re not expecting, like, a weird comparison, right? Cuz that’s--”

“No!” He says quickly, “No, of course not. Just… y’know… How was he?”

It’s not hard to find curiosity buried under the feigned indifference in Roy’s eyes. 

Wally thinks about nights spent on the couch, the three of them curled together, Dick settled neatly in the middle like the space was made for him. He thinks of Dick’s hair in the glow of the tv, of Roy’s arm around him, of their voices melding together in harmony. He thinks about chasing Dick around the apartment, of Roy egging them on, of Dick’s eyes flashing under neon lights, of Roy smirking around the lip of a bottle. He thinks of how both of them makes his heart leap and his face flush. The way Roy looks at Dick when he’s not looking. How Dick’s smile grows fond when Roy says something clever. 

He thinks about last night, and how broken he felt, knowing that his heart was split and that he’d never be able to choose if he was forced to.

But now, with the way Roy is looking at him, maybe… maybe none of them have to choose, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up at theo-ography.tumblr.com!


End file.
